


Never gonna get it Even

by Thereaderwhotriestowrite



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: 5th year au, 5th year snowbaz, Agatha Wellbelove - Freeform, And angst, Baz in eyeliner, Competition, Eyeliner, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Panic, I probably border on smut at some point, I promise, I'm pretty sure, M/M, Makeup, Romantic Fluff, Simon Snow - Freeform, SnowBaz, Snowbaz angst, baz - Freeform, baz you deserve the world, but for now have eyeliner, but mainly fluff, carry on, how do you even tag im sory, is basically canon anyway, like come on, oh hunny, penny bunce - Freeform, penny is long suffering, room mates, simon my sweet oblivious child, snowbaz competitive, snowbaz fluff, snowbaz makeup, so yeah baz is struggling, you can have simon later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-07-19 21:01:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19980445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thereaderwhotriestowrite/pseuds/Thereaderwhotriestowrite
Summary: Baz decides to start wearing eyeliner so Simon has a (gay) panic, this brings out the best side of Agatha and Penny is amazed at how oblivious Simon really is. Then when Simon decides to try and one-up Baz, it has him questioning why he's really doing it at all.





	1. Baz POV: Will someone please tell Snow to calm down I'm too busy hyperventilating and trying not to ruin my eyeliner

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so this is a fic idea I've had for so longgg and I'm sure it's been done before. I'm gonna alternate between Baz and Simon's POV, and I've absolutely no idea how chapters work so have fun on the ride with me ahahah

Baz POV:

This is either the best thing I’ve ever had the guts to do or something I will regret as soon as someone makes eye contact with me. I’m stood outside the great hall, trying not to hover before I go in. On the one hand, I will literally slap anyone who looks at me longer than two seconds, but on the other hand, I’ll cry if no one notices because it has taken me an hour to be relatively happy with, let alone the hassle of getting the eyeliner to begin with - if it wasn’t for Fiona I’m sure Father would have killed me. I appreciate her no-questions-asked support.

It’s not even a lot. Only a bit on my upper eyelid that’s been smudged out so much you can barely tell it’s there. But still. I can.

I slip through the doors after some other latecomers and head purposefully to where Dev and Nial are already sat. They nod their heads as I sit down muttering something along the lines of niceofyoutojoinus. But I’m distracted by the small commotion going on at Snows table. I can see Agatha pursing her lips and Penny rolling her eyes as Snow struggles to control the mess of orange juice spilt over his plate and is already dripping onto the floor. 

“Hey Baz,” I whip my head back to Dev, “I said it looks good, the black stuff on your eyes.”

“Oh, yeah thanks” I reply blinking back.

As much as I take them both for granted as people I can get through school with, I can always count on Dev and Nial to at least try and say the right thing, even if they’re mostly preoccupied with each other. Morons.

I look over at Simon’s table again and although things seem to have calmed down I catch Simon staring right at me. His brow is furrowed in annoyance or confusion, and knowing Snow it’s almost always the latter. But I’m still concerned.  
Surely he can’t even see it from here, I’m barely even wearing anything.  
But what if he can and he’s one of those Straight People that think boys can’t wear makeup at all. I’m clearly being ridiculous, no one even knows I’m gay, and black eyeliner can definitely pass as just emo. I’m probably just fueling the fire of his vampire theory. Yes, Simon, I’m plotting your downfall by slowly getting my eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man.

Agatha corners me as soon as I leave breakfast. I brace myself for whatever pathetic excuse she has to talk to me today. There’s really no reason for me to stay - Snow is far out of earshot finishing the scones he didn’t drench in citrus but instead slathered in butter.  
But she surprises me by cutting herself off halfway through whatever she was saying about lacrosse with,

“Baz are you wearing eyeliner?”

Here we go. The first of what I presume will be many people asking that today.

“Yes,” I say through my teeth, daring her to challenge me with my eyes.

“It looks really good on you, you know, your grey eyes really go with it.”

Well, that wasn’t what I expected.

“Thanks then.”

“I can help you try a wing at some point if you want? I don’t know if that’s really your thing though.”  
This has so far been the most genuine conversation Agatha has ever had with me, and I’ve spoken four words.

“I’ll think about it - thanks Agatha,” and I walk off to Mummers Tower to collect my books.

The day's lessons drag by without me getting any more than a second glance. Well other than Snow.  
It was after lunch in our potions class when it was obvious he had some sort of problem. All morning it had only been not so subtle staring, but when he walked in with Bunce, I groaned as the smell of smoke followed him into the classroom. Normally I’d be delighted at any opportunity to torment an already aggravated Simon - especially if I’m the reason However this time it wasn’t about Simon, and if my eyeliner bothered him that much then he could deal with it while I pretended that he didn’t bother me at all.

He set his stuff down on his desk next to me with a thud. I’d already been dreading this class - we’re partnered up with our roommates, and I want to get a good grade, and despite what Snow says I do actually have to try to do well. 

He’s late and we’ve already been set work to do on the board, yet he’s just sat there resolutely turned away from me.

“So, fancied showing up did we Snow? Or did your latest mission just not take all afternoon as you planned?”

It’s dangerous to prod at him, but I’m just testing the waters. He opens his mouth to say something but closes it again heavily, and I swear I can hear his teeth grind from here.

I get up to get the ingredients listed on the board and take a breath. It probably has nothing to do with me. His foul mood. The odds of that are low and I can feel his blue eyes boring into my back as I stand waiting.

Penny’s behind me in the queue for salamander eggs and I catch her eye as I turn round to check if Simon is actually looking at me. She grimaces and shrugs, as if to say “Who knows it’s Simon he always seems to have a problem with you”.

I dump my pile of ingredients down on the desk and Snow grabs a handful and just starts chopping. He’s pretty good with a knife (it’s pretty much a very small sword) but I don’t think he actually knows what he’s chopping, he’s just doing it very quickly, and very forcefully, until he suddenly looks up at me right in the eye and says, 

“Baz,” and drops the knife like it burned him. He stands there for a minute as if waiting for me to say something. 

“What?”

And he runs out of the room, leaving all of our ingredients diced on the desk and me none the wiser.


	2. I promise I have good reasons - a novel by Simon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof this is a bit (very) late sorry, but I hope you enjoy Simon being a very confused mess.

Simon’s POV:

I’m pretty sure at this point the teachers have stopped questioning when I flee classrooms. They just see me leave through the smoke and pretend they didn’t.  
My fists are balled as I lean into the cool of the wall behind me - the corridor is still deserted; class doesn’t end for another 35 minutes. I’m desperately trying to calm down using the techniques Penny told me.  
I’ve stopped smoking finally, leaving only a smoldering smell in the air.

I didn’t get it at first, I didn’t understand what was different other than the fact Baz looked really, really good. Not that that’s anything different. But today, he just looked so much more striking. It’s like he just demanded to be looked at.  
And that’s pretty fucking infuriating when you can’t avoid the bastard all day.

I asked Penny at breakfast what Baz had done differently, or whether it was some sort of vampire hypnosis thing, but all I got was an exasperated shake of the head (she’d already just spelled our table clear of orange juice).

“How did you even notice anything from here? Just eat your eggs since they’re the only thing not soaked.”

I didn’t eat my eggs. I was too distracted by Agatha running after Baz as he left the hall. Of course.

My day started off pretty badly because of Baz, and it didn’t get much better from there. I broke two pens from chewing through them while distracted by him, causing the ink to go everywhere - but it wasn’t until Magic words class that I finally figured out what it was. 

Baz was wearing eyeliner. I snapped my pencil.

How could it make Baz look better? Why did he even think he needed it? The pretentious git. I could tell Penny knew something was up, but she knew better than to ask and I knew better than to tell her my epiphany after breakfast this morning. 

But Christ, did Baz really need another thing to one-up me with? Surely he realises he does that everyday by just effortlessly existing.

I thought it would be better once I’d figured out what it was about him, maybe I’d be able to focus now I wasn’t trying to figure out what was different about Baz. I guess not, since I’m out here having nearly gone off from the close proximity. And the fact I couldn’t stop thinking about him all lunch.

I figure it will only make it worse if I go back to lessons, so I just head back to Mummers house for the afternoon. At least I won't have to confront Baz until he gets back.  
Confront? What would I even say to him though really?

“Hey Baz how dare you be good at makeup as well as everything else, it’s been distracting me all day and I swear to god I’ll slap you any second.” 

I have a feeling it won’t have the impact I want; either makes me sound like a homophobic asshole or I’m into him. Huh. Let’s not read too far into that.  
I don’t even know if Baz is gay. He’s never had a girlfriend, and it’s not like he’d ever have a problem if he wanted one. I mean he managed to break up me and Agatha and I’m pretty sure he wasn’t even trying.

But he doesn’t come straight back after the last bell rings to signal the end of lessons. I fidget for a quarter of an hour, glancing at the door waiting for him to come up the stairs - until I remember.

Oh.

Baz had football practise. I’d normally be part of the scattered few watching, but it had completely slipped my mind since I walked out of class.

Had he really gone to practise in eyeliner? I mean, I’m pretty sure none of the guys would be dicks about it but it does take balls to show up like you don’t care if they are. I don’t think I could do it.  
Would it stay on anyway? With the training exercises and the actual match, he always end up glistening with sweat - even ruins his hair up in that ridiculous man-bun. I hope it doesn’t ruin his eyeliner, would be a shame.  
A shame? What am I even saying, a shame about what? He’d not look as devastatingly good-looking and surely that’s a plus.  
(Except he probably would, he always looks a different kind of good after practise. A kind of dishevelled fit instead of clean-cut, and it’s rare to see him look as messed up out of his football kit).

I decide to go find Penny instead of just waiting for him to come back so I head to the library.

I’m mid-rant to her explaining what I figured out when she interrupts me,

“Sorry Si, but what did you just say?”

“That I bet I could be good at it too if I tried - he’s not special.

“Eyeliner?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Simon can I please remind you your handwriting is bad for an 8 year old child I doubt you could manage the precision for eyeliner,”

“Yeah but that different right? Eyeliner is just a line on your skin not shapes or anything…”

She stares at me for a solid minute.

“So you’re going to start wearing eyeliner for Baz?”

“I mean - I’m proving a point Penny,” I say as I bring my hand down on the desk, earning me a shush from the 8th year on the table behind us.

“Whatever you say Simon, just as long as you’ve thought about why you’re actually want to do this,” she turns back to the book she was reading before I arrived, “Maybe ask Agatha for help if you’re serious about it?”  
I wince. Clearly this conversation is over.

“Maybe… I’ll see how it goes by myself first.”

***

Okay so by myself went abysmally. I’ve currently locked myself in the bathroom in our room, desperately scrubbing at my eyes. I should probably have asked Agatha for help before using the eyeliner Penny gave me because I look like a panda with hayfever. My eyes are bloodshot and my face is smeared with black.

Of course Baz would be good at this - it’s clearly elitist bullshit.

I hear the door up to our room shut and I groan. Baz must be back already and he’ll be wanting a shower since the git never uses the showers in the changing rooms.

I can’t go out like this, but how do you even get this damn stuff off? Baz cannot see me like this, it would give him enough ammunition to last the rest of our time at Watford.

The bathroom is also a state - the sink is streaked with black and I’m pretty sure I’ve ruined our towel too. 

Baz calls through the door,  
“Snow get out already you know I need to shower,”

I guess I don’t have to worry anymore about whether Baz’s eyeliner came off, since I’m pretty sure the only thing that’ll do the job is bleach. (And I can’t imagine Baz with as bad a panda face as me)

“Snow what are you even doing? Unlock the door and get out already.”

Fuck.


	3. Basilton is not thriving

Baz POV:

I’m about to raise my voice again when the door is pushed open, and Snow gingerly steps out. 

And let me just say it really is a sight to behold.

If I couldn’t see the black smears on his shirt as well as his eyes I’d assume he’d been in some sort of fight. That made him hotter. (I’m disturbed ask anyone) Well, a fight that didn’t involve black eyeliner or our bathroom.

“Gracious Snow, what are you trying to prove?” I exhale, only just realising I’ve been holding my breath.

Because, no matter how much he has clearly lost - I have so won. Oh I have won in so many ways.  
If we’re going for the low-blow - I’ve obviously won the eyeliner competition I have apparently started. Fact.   
However a more pressing win is that Simon is wearing eyeliner because of me, and he looks damn good. I mean sure, definitely could be tidied up with some eye makeup remover, but the obvious smudgy black kind of work. I don’t think neat or tidy are compatible with Snow.

So yeah - I count this as a win-win situation so far.

He’s just kind of standing there with his mouth hanging open, not catching my eye and not moving. He really is a mess; his shirt is covered in blue ink from earlier and black ish smudges.

I’m still in my football kit and I can feel all the grime and sweat settling on my skin. I push past Simon and into the bathroom and scoff at his pitiful attempt at wiping down the sink.  
I turn and close the door and see Snow still in the gap scowling defiantly - no longer a trace of his sheepish demeanor. I raise my eyebrows at him, close the door on him and sigh.

Of all the reactions I anticipated today, this was definitely not one of them. I grab the eye makeup remover and cotton pads from under the sink and wipe at my eyes, it stings and little but does the job, and I strip and turn on the shower as hot as it can go.  
I can feel the water slowly warming me from the outside in. I never realise how cold my hands are - exercise is supposed to help with circulation, but I don’t know how that’s supposed to work when there’s barely any blood to circulate.

I really should feed, I haven’t fed since the day before last and I can feel my fangs aching in my gums. Simon doesn’t know how much effort it took to push right past him and not push him against a wall. Thank God he wears that damn cross - otherwise he would not just be at risk from sexual assault but also from being drained dry. 

Simon Snow, why or why are you always so alive? The skin on his face was all blotchy from where he’s been rubbing it, all that blood so easily rising to his face, his pulse raised as I walked in…   
I lean my forehead against the cold tile of the shower wall. It’s too dangerous for me to think like this. 

I spell the bathroom clean as I step out. The room smells vaguely of smoke and Snow has flung himself face down on his bed. I throw him the eye makeup remover and cotton pads and make a hasty exit to the catacombs before he can ask any questions. I have a feeling he won’t follow me tonight.

I only get back at 3 am. Too much thinking not enough drinking (ha). And yet, Simon is still awake and sat cross-legged on his bed - with a clean face and the makeup remover at the foot of my bed.

“You could have just followed me like you used to Snow” I throw at him, just to gage where he’s at.

“You knew I was there?” 

He looks genuinely surprised. Of course I knew, he was never exactly as quiet or discreet as he liked to think. He should probably have skipped the axe deodorant

I didn’t answer, just put the light off and strode across the room into bed. I hear a disgruntled “hmph” from Simon, shortly followed by the shuffling of his duvet.

“Night Baz.” He finally says quietly after too much time. Quiet enough for me not to have heard if I was sleeping.

I close my eyes not daring to face him. He’s part of some dream of mine anyway.

***

In the morning, Snow had already left before I even woke up.

I do my eyeliner bolder than yesterday - a clean line un-smudged. I will not let my anxiety compromise my image this time; messy and not even blended can be boxed away for my very public breakdown. Not today.

I don’t see Simon at breakfast, and I refuse to believe he’s skipped it so he must have came uncharacteristically early. I catch Penny’s eye as I walk in and she stands up to leave, ( no Agatha today). She smiles at me some sort of knowing smile. I don’t know what about - she knows far too much in my opinion, but I smirk back and turn to Dev and Nial.

I have a very boring morning up until 2nd lesson. Up until I see Snow that is, and then even Nial feels the need to comment.

“Hey, did you put something in Simon’s tea this morning or did he come up with this by himself?”

Because Simon is in eyeliner. With a Goddamn wing.

I need to take a breath.

“Baz mate,”

I need to sit down before I make a scene, so I let Dev tug me down into my usual seat.

Not to sound like the e-boy himself but: Simon must be plotting something. He’s sat chatting with Agatha of all people, who must have done it for him.

Although if I’m being honest he does seem very pleased, even if a little self-conscious. Either he’s just that pleased to have found a way to one-up me or, he knows how good he looks in it.  
Because Alastair Crowley he does look good.

I realise he’s not only got Agatha sat at his table, but a group of four or five other girls who’ve pulled up a chair to look at him and chat to him about this. Imagine being able to unashamedly pull up a chair to just look at Simon Snow. Imagine being so approachable people feel like they can do that.

I may not have pulled up a chair to examine Snow, but I definitely took the opportunity to drink in every glorious detail.

I have to physically squash the ridiculous drop of giddy hope that seems to have appeared in my chest. And my throat.   
Just because Snow is wearing the most pristine eyeliner I’ve ever seen, does not make him gay. Even if it seems he’s done it for me.

I really need to get a hold of myself before I speak to anyone or it will definitely come out too fast for my reputation.

I end up channeling this energy in my usual avenue of “unnecessary angst” and Dev and Nial are definitely feeling the heat.

**Author's Note:**

> Woo hope you like it - updates vary from a week to 3 months so really just cross your fingers and hope, I promise I haven't abandoned it!


End file.
